Should America continue to tolerate the current indiscriminate use of the term "significant other," to describe people who take themselves to seriously to admit they are going steady? 

    The problem is, you can never tell when a relationship has been upped to "significant other."  In the movies there'd be a War Room scene, with someone shouting, "Going to DEFCON 4."  Buzzers would sound and lights on the wall would move up one level.  But this almost never happens in real life.  You can also rule out the idea of people getting "significant other" licenses—at least until the government figures out how much money it would generate. 

    There's an entire industry just waiting to be tapped.  What we need are "significant other" ceremonies, with tuxedos, fancy gowns, or perhaps just matching jump suits, and cakes, or at least cupcakes.  The point is, "significant others," are cheating our economy out of perfectly good money by not throwing parties for their friends. 

    Hallmark should weigh in on this too.  A card company called Thompson's Personables already has a "Significant Other" card, which, according to the company's website, is printed on recycled paper.  Now that's my idea of a relationship card—generic, easy to replace, and made of the scraps of someone else's card.  A good advertising slogan might be:  "Nothing says 'significant relationship' like recycled paper."  But just try to give a card like that to your spouse.  It will probably mean some serious marriage counseling, except of course in the blue states, where recycled cards are probably considered a good idea. 

    There also doesn't seem to be any serious "significant other" counseling available.  On two of the first four hits made by my trusty internet search engine, "significant other counseling" involved the purchase of hearing aids.  No kidding.  Perhaps pretending not to hear your significant other is a good way to avoid relationship problems. 

    Linda:  "Hey this card you got me is printed on recycled paper!"

    Dave:   "What?" 

    Another problem for significant others is how to introduce each other.  Most do it with a little extra emphasis on "significant other," followed by a self-conscious laugh.  What is that all about?  That sort of introduction would make your dog feel weird. 

    "Hi, Betty.  Have you met my dog?"  (Pinched smile here, followed by several short blasts of air through the nostrils—simulating a chuckle.) 

    And what happens to significant others when they split up?  Do they become "insignificant others?"  How do they divide up all of those gifts they got at their significant others shower?  Sure, it's easy for them to act cavalier when everything looks rosy.  But when they are actually faced with loosing that designer coffee mug collection, after working so hard to keep it hidden in the spare bedroom whenever guests came over, how will significant others cope? 

    There's no way around it.  Significant others have all the same problems as married people, only without the clarity of a well-defined relationship.  It's like boxing, without any ropes around the ring. 

-- Horace J. Digby